A Magical Christmas Carol
by Lady Celestial Star
Summary: A Harry Potter Christmas Carol! Someone has been a complete and utter SCROOGE! At one point he was a good man, but he fell to the temptress of greed. Only the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future can save him, but in reality it is someone very special that really saves him from himself. AU *Absolutely, no doubt about it* Rated T for Ghosts


**I thought I would make this story for Christmas, as a sort of present, cause I can't afford to give all the people subscribed to me and all my friends here a present. I saw one of the Christmas Carol versions of Harry Potter and thought I would do one too.**

**Should be fun ;D And I did have a lot of fun writing it! **

**I know that it's not exactly like the Charles Dickens version, I just wanted to write it for fun. I will however use the first sentence, that's just a staple of the book you gotta use, if nothing else.**

**You'll notice that it sounds a bit like the Muppet Christmas Carol version, which is my ultimate favorite, you can't go wrong with Michael Caine and Kermit the Frog.**

**I don't own Harry Potter, or A Christmas Carol.**

* * *

Grindelwald was dead, to begin with.

Dumbledore and Grindelwald had been partners in the field of magical research for a long time, longer than most people could even imagine. They worked on hundreds of magical compounds and theories, but that was in the old days. Nowadays they only worked for themselves instead of the betterment of all wizardkind.

They had taken up residence in a large building in Godric's Hollow, an intimidating building that could use some children around it to make it take on a bit softer look. Their office building was no better looking. It was a large stone building, shades kept down all the time, giving it a forbidden air.

They spent their time selling their discoveries to highest bidder, and that bidder wasn't always the most respectable establishment. St. Mungos was lucky to get even a few newly discovered healing potions a year and they would have to pay a large amount in order to get the formulas for potions or the wandwork for the spells.. The Department of Mysteries would deplete their yearly budget in less than five months just to pay the two misers to release some of the secrets and knowledge.

They horded their money in underground vaults beneath their house, distrusting goblins and not wanting to trust anyone else with their financial securities but themselves. Most charities knew to not even attempt to knock on their door and ask for assistance, they had been turned away in the most innovated ways. One time they were snowballed, literally, down the street and into the river. Another person was found knocked out several provinces away from Godric's Hollow, their money scattered across the countryside. The Ministry of Magic feared the duo, even one by themself was worth giving them a wide berth and leaving them well enough alone.

But unfortunately, for Gindelwald and Grindelwald alone, he fell into a bad bout of Magus Malady, reducing him to a coughing wreck. No amount of potions or spells could ease the man's suffering or cure his ailment. He didn't last the month after contracting the illness, but he clung to life greedily. Dumbledore took it upon himself to care for his comrade, but for two reasons: it was his friend yes, but he also didn't want Grindelwald to exclude him from his will due to Dumbledore ignoring his needs.

So Dumbledore inherited Grindelwald's half, it was all his. Every last galleon was his, every royalty coming in from the discoveries and the credit to the new discoveries sure to come. He was now the single richest man on this side of the Atlantic, with a few more discoveries he could have enough money to call himself the richest man in the world.

The only money he had to dish out at any given time was to pay for his hapless assistant, James Potter. The man was completely useless next to Dumbledore himself but he felt..._obligated_ to give the man a job. He had promised his late father that he give the man a job, especially after the man's father saved his life years and years ago. But that didn't mean he had to pay the man a large wage. In fact, James Potter was lucky to even get the wage he had now.

He had no interest in James Potter's social or home life, for he could hardly care less. He warned James Potter of that on his first day of working for him. James had come into his office and asked about his work on a certain potion, known for curing a muscle degenerating disease. That cure was currently sitting in Dumbledore's safe, awaiting the time that St. Mungos could come up with the exuberant amount for it's use.

"I don't care what you know, don't know, likes, dislikes or anything of the sort. You just come in and work, I won't expect anymore of you, and I don't want you doing any less." said Dumbledore shortly.

It was Christmas Eve and James was busy writing several letters of final notice of payment to the Ministry and St. Mungos. James hated to write those words almost constantly every other month for different reasons.

_To: _Whomever was the unfortunate debtor.

_This is your final notice for payments towards the authorized use of _whatever they really needed but they had to pay this cantankerous miser in order to use it to either better lives or save lives_. If the payment is not made in less than four business days, then I will revoke the use of the discovery and will file charges against you for compensation. _

_Albus Wulfric Percieval Brian Dumbledore Order of Merlin: First Class._

It was almost like a form letter and James could easily use magic to make the copies. But Dumbledore hardly allowed him to use magic anywhere near his offices, thinking that the magical auras would not tip in his favor and cause a negative reaction with his discoveries. He never acknowledged the fact that James had graduated at the top of his class. The young man always dreamed of researching the cures of different diseases. James always wanted to work for Dumbledore, not believing the words of others that he became the stingiest of misers.

James dipped his quill into the inkwell above him. He had to dip it in quite deep and scratch at the corners of the bottle just to find enough ink to write a few lines. He was given a meager budget to work with, a few sickles a month for his supplies. The parchment was provided, Dumbledore wouldn't have his letters written on anything less than the strictest parchment, but quills, ink, he had to get that himself with his budget. With all the writing he did everyday, he ran quickly through the budget and would have to use his own meager paycheck to pay for the supplies.

James continued on with the letters, that he whole heartedly wished that could have waited until after Christmas, then someone came in. A very blustered but exuberant Remus Lupin, Great-Nephew to Albus Dumbledore.

"Hi James! Is Uncle in?" asked Remus, the skin on his face tight on his face, he was just recovering from the latest full moon. On his arm, he had a beautifully decorated wreath.

"Yes, Master Remus." said James quietly.

"Forget the Master part." said Remus with a bright smile. He walked right into the heart of the office and stood in front of his uncle's desk. "Merry Christmas Uncle. God save you!"

"Christmas? Bah! Humbug!" said Dumbledore without looking up to see who was speaking to him.

"Only you speak in such an old-fashioned way, Uncle. But seriously? Christmas a humbug? How can you say such a thing?"

"How can you afford to be 'Merry'? You're poor and sick enough." said Dumbledore shortly.

"How can you not afford it? You're rich enough." said Remus with a bright smile.

Dumbledore slammed his quill down on the table. "If I had my way, every person that spoke Merry Christmas to me, would be cooked with his own turkey, with a sprig of holly through his heart." he snapped.

Remus looked taken aback slightly, but he regained his composure. "Come to Christmas dinner with me and Nymphadora, we'll be glad to have you."

"Why ever did you get married?" growled Dumbledore shortly.

"Why? Because I fell in love!" said Remus rapturously.

Dumbledore scoffed.

"Uncle I was wondering..." said Remus.

"Remus I'm extremely busy, it can wait till later." said Dumbledore shortly.

Remus looked slightly hurt, but regained his holiday cheer. "Well Uncle Albus, if I don't see you at Christmas dinner, may you have a Merry Christmas," said Remus as he placed the wreath on the old man's office door. "and a happy New Year."

Suddenly, a timid knock came from the front door. James looked anxiously at his employer who was staring angrily at the door. James opened the door carefully and met the visitors with a pitying look. They were charity solicitors, obviously inexperienced ones or they would never have come to do this door.

It was a pair of men who were dressed to the nines, but they were trembling as if they were wearing nothing out in this freezing cold weather. They came into the office, nodding to James, and continued into Dumbledore's office.

"G-Greetings Mr. Dumbledore, we are here on behalf of the Ministry's fund for the poor and homeless, we are counting on many of your friends and neighbors for any generous donation you can give us during this time of giving." said the man with a trembling smile.

"Oh, well you picked the perfect gentleman." said Remus with a bright smile. "This man is the picture of generosity towards meaningful charities."

"_My dear nephew!_" snarled Dumbledore.

"Well, I'll be seeing you, Uncle." said Remus with a bright smile.

"Merry Christmas, Remus." said James quietly.

"Merry Christmas, James." said Remus with a smile.

With that he left, with Dumbledore seething with anger in his wake.

The two men gulped nervously at the look on Dumbledore's face, but slowly approached the desk.

"Um, sir? About the...donation?" asked the men whispering.

Dumbledore glared at the men, but slowly closed his book. "Ah, yes, I know how to treat the poor and homeless." he stood up and walked to the door. "My taxes go to pay for the prisons and poor houses, the people can go there." he said with a sneer.

"B-But some would rather die!" said one of the men.

"If they'd rather die, then they'd better do it! And decrease the surplus population!." snapped Dumbledore opening the door and gesturing for the men to leave.

The men looked horrified at the man standing in front of them, "C-Come along Arthur, we've taken enough of Mr. Dumbledore's time." both men scurried out of the office building.

At the end of that day, James, who had gathering all the courage he had in his body to ask, stood up and knocked on Dumbledore's office door.

"Well? Come in." said Dumbledore sharply.

James went slowly into the office door and stood in front of the desk.

"Well, what's so important that I'm paying for you stand there?" asked Dumbledore hotly.

"Well, sir, it's Christmas Eve." said James.

"Well aware of the day, now what's your point?" asked Dumbledore.

"I was...well, tomorrow's Christmas Day." said James.

"And I suppose you want tomorrow _off_?" said Dumbledore.

"Well, sir, it _is _Christmas, and there would be no post past five o'clock in the morning, and there would be no one to do business with. You'd waste a lot of money paying me to work tomorrow." said James hopefully.

Dumbledore continued to write in his large book and study the orb on his desk. "It's a poor excuse to pick a man's pocket every December the twenty-fifth." said Dumbledore darkly. "Take the day off."

"_Thank you sir!_" said James happily.

"Forget the gratitudes. I want you in here all the earlier the next day!" snapped Dumbledore angrily.

"Of course sir! Merry Christmas sir!" said James eagerly as he grabbed his coat and hat.

"Just get out!" shouted Dumbledore.

It was a few long hours till Dumbledore decided to close his books and lock up his offices. _Merry Christmas indeed_. _I'll make James work the entire weekend to make up for the lost time that sentimental fool wanted. _He walked down the few blocks to his own house on the more secluded part of Godric's Hollow. He ignored the people wishing him a Jolly Yuletide and made extra effort to cast a heating spell on a pair of snowmen the children in the park were building.

Once he reached his home, he dug deeply into his pockets and pulled out a ring of keys. He placed the correct key into the lock, and a horrible sight met his eyes.

It was _Grindelwald's face _in place of the lock! Dumbledore stared at the face in shock. Then the face _screamed_! Dumbledore fell backwards into the street. He scrambled back to his feet and pointed his wand at the door lock. But the face was gone. Dumbledore looked around the deserted street, ready to hex the little demons in the neighborhood for daring to frighten him. But he saw no one.

He growled angrily and entered his house, slamming the door behind him. He lit his wand in the darkened house, hung his coat on the coat stand beside the door, and made his way slowly to his bedchamber. He peered suspiciously into the darkness, awaiting another attack from the local hooligans, if he ever got his hands on them...He decided to search each room in his dark house.

He made it, with no further excitements, to the very last two rooms, his living room and his bedroom. He placed his briefcase of important papers in the safe beside his bed. He was not just going to leave them in the office for anyone to go in and see them. He didn't get to where he was by being stupid.

He changed his clothes and pulled on his nightshirt, wrapping his warm dressing gown around him, and slipping his feet into his slippers. He conjured a fire in the fireplace and sat down in his chair where a supper of bread, cheese and stew was awaiting him. The house-elves knew well enough to keep out of his sight when he came home, when Grindelwald would come home and he'd catch sight of an elf, that elf would be dismissed in a heartbeat.

Dumbledore faced the fire and ate his meal in utter silence. He used his mealtimes for quiet meditation and contemplation of his current work. The only sound that shocked him out of his thoughts was the chime of the clock. Twelve times the clock struck. Dumbledore looked up at the old clock in confusion. He was methodical and a very schedule-driven man. It could not possibly be that time now!

Then the bell. that was supposed to tell him he had a visitor, rang, but he hadn't had a visitor come to his house in such a long time. He stood up and walked towards the window, peering outside, nothing. There was absolutely no one outside his door.

_Rabble rousers again_. growled Dumbledore. He went back to his chair and continued to eat his supper. He raised the spoonful of stew to his lips, then he heard a low moaning, he turned in his chair, his wand at the ready.

Suddenly a ghostly form came slowly through the door. It was a man, constrained by what looked like yards of silver chains, there were books with strong locks sealing it's pages away from prying eyes and cauldron's dragging on the floor. On closer inspection, Dumbledore saw the ghost's face, _Grindelwald_.

"_G-Gellert_! What are you...?" said Dumbledore stuttering slightly.

"_Albus...Albus..._" moaned Grindelwald mournfully.

"Gellert! I thought you'd of gone on." said Dumbledore, ever trying to discover knew things he could use for his own purpose.

"_I was not given the chance_, _I was forced to walk forever, dragged down by the chains of my own greed._" moaned Grindelwald dragging the chains, books and cauldrons behind him.

Dumbledore stared at the ghostly figure.

"_This fate, also awaits you._"said Grindelwald in a low voice.

Dumbledore paled. "No, it can't! It mustn't! Help me, Gellert!" pleaded Dumbledore. He did not fear death, but to wander chained to the earth, and obviously in pain...was hellish.

"_Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits. Listen to them, do as they say, or you're chains will be heavier than mine!_" said Grindelwald.

Dumbledore clutched at his throat.

"_I must go, that was all the time I had to warn you._" said Grindewaled lurching towards the door. "_Expect the first ghost when the bell tolls one. For without these visits you cannot hope to avoid the path I was forced to take_"

"Can't I meet them all at once and get it over with?" said Dumbledore.

"_When the bell tolls one," _repeated Grindelwald. _"You will meet the first ghost._"

"A question, quickly; because you warned me, will you be saved?" asked Dumbledore.

"_No, it will not. There is no redemption I can make now_." said Grindelwald. "_Change Albus, if you do not, I am the vision of your fate."_

Grindelwald slowly stalked out of the room, and disappeared into thin air.

Dumbledore stared at the spot where his old companion stood. sweat pouring off his face. A dream, that's it, it had to have been a dream. Ghosts were of course real, but...Gellert? No, they had done an extensive study on ghosts and what possibly laid on the other side. Grindelwald's choice of going on or keeping his stay on earth a little longer was taken away. Would that happen to him? It had to be a dream, no one could take that choice away...

"Humbug." he muttered, though he was still unnerved.

He could not eat anymore of his supper and left it on the table. He crawled into his bed, hoping that this would all go away in the morning.

_Ting!_

A single chime rang out, and Dumbledore's eyes flashed open. The room then was bathed in a bright light, almost blinding him despite the curtains around his bed being drawn. He tightened his grip on his wand and pulled the curtain back sharply. Immediately the light began to sting his eyes, he threw up his arms to shield them, but the light still bombarded his sight. Once his sight readjusted, he noticed the light fading back a little until a small red-headed girl came into his view.

She didn't look older than five seven years, though her eyes, her brown eyes, held a wisdom he could only wish for. She had long red hair, that seemed to be suspended in the air and moved with the gentlest of breezes. She wore a long white dress that seemed to be in the same sort of animated state as her hair.

"Who...Who are you? Are you the ghost that was foretold to me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"I am." she said, her voice as if it were coming from a child deep in a well.

"But.." he lowered his wand slowly. "...you're just a child."

"I can remember nineteen hundred years." said the girl matter of factly. "I am the ghost of Christmas Past."

Dumbledore tried to find reason amongst this madness, but could find nothing. "What brings you here?"

"You're welfare." said the ghost shrugging, though doing so made her entire body drift slightly.

"My _welfare_?" scoffed Dumbledore. "No one is concerned about my _welfare_!"

"Your salvation then, take heed, come." she said, she turned and lightly gestured towards the window. The window, by some unknown force, banged open.

Dumbledore looked at the window. "Allow me to get a broom." he said, hoping to get away and stay elsewhere for the evening.

"A touch of my hand and you will fly." she said sweetly.

Dumbledore looked at the child's lily white hand, he could not help but take it. Something deep in him compelled him to take it gently into his own veined hand. He felt his entire body become light than it had ever been.

They began to fly gently towards the open window, and out into the night sky. He made to grip his dressing gown to shield himself from the cold air, but the air was neither cold nor warm.

They continued flying onward into the horizon, a bright light was at the furthest point away from them, until it quickly approached them.

"Ghost? What is that? It cannot be dawn." said Dumbledore peering into the distance.

"It is the past." said the spirit.

The light enveloped around them, and then it was gone. It was replaced by a large wooden area, with a castle at the very edge of the forest. They continued until they flew straight towards the large stone wall.

"We are going to _crash_!" said Dumbledore fearfully.

But they traveled safely through the wall and found themselves in a large classroom. He placed his feet on the floor of the room and looked around.

"Tell me Albus, do you know this place?" asked the Spirit.

"Yes, this is my old school. I was a boy here, I turned into a quite a talented young man." said Dumbledore, his eyes misting with tears. He looked around the room and walked slowly over to the chalkboard. "I remember the feel of the desks, the smell of the chalk, I chose my profession in this school."

"And does this person seem familiar to you?" asked the Spirit raising a ghostly hand.

Dumbledore turned and saw a boy, a boy he knew oh, very well indeed. The boy was working diligently on a piece of paper in front of him, scribbling notes from the book beside his elbow.

"_Merlin_, it's _me_!" he gasped.

Suddenly a group of boys came in and grabbed the bags that they apparently left behind from the earlier classes.

"I know those two, they were in the same year as I. He tried to touch one of the boys' shoulder but his hand fell through the air.

"This is the shadow of your past, they can neither hear nor see you." said the spirit.

"Come along, Albus!" shouted one of them. "You'll miss the train back home!"

"It's Christmas break!" said another boy.

"Who _cares _about Christmas? It's a foolish holiday, anyway!" snapped younger Albus angrily.

Dumbledore looked down a little shamefully in front of the ghost. "I-I just felt that Christmas break helped me focus a bit more on studying and preparing for my future career."

Then he saw as time seemed to go swiftly past them, Dumbledore watched as his adolescent self grew into a young man over the course of just a few minutes. The classroom was now replaced with the large majestic visual of the Great Hall.

His now seventeen year old self was reading a rather thickly bound book at one of the long tables and ignoring the rest of the students coming and going around him. One little girl however came running up to the pensive young man and threw her arms around him.

"Albus! Mother wants you home this year!" said the girl as she buried her face in his auburn hair.

"Ariana." said Dumbledore softly as he gazed longingly at the face of his little sister.

The girl had the same hair softness and color as Remus possessed, with the same nose between her bright blue eyes. The older version of Dumbledore reached out and tried to touch her, but his hands fell on empty air.

"I'm very busy, Ariana, I don't have time to come home." he said sourly.

"You've been here almost every year! I want to celebrate Christmas with you this year!" said Ariana with a pout.

Dumbledore frowned, but slowly his face broke into a small smile. "Alright."

"You sister loved you very much." said the Ghost of Christmas Past.

"She was the only reason after that, that I tolerated this time of year. But after she died, so did my tolerance for this season." said Dumbledore angrily. "She died a young woman, with my nephew in childbirth. He grew up to be a disappointment to me, he became a shop owner, instead of the researcher I wanted him to be. His son followed in his footsteps and ran his family's business." The words just tumbled out of his mouth, he found himself spilling his feelings to a spirit!

The spirit said nothing but nodded when he stopped talking. The light wrapped itself around them and placed them on a snow covered street. Men and women were strolling along, carrying parcels decorated with bows, and ribbons. Children were out throwing snowballs at snowmen that some of the older ones enchanted to fly around as a sort of target.

Dumbledore looked around the street, he knew of this place too.

"This is Diagon Alley, and there's the building I used to work in. 'Fezzywigs'. It was one of the best run research facilities of this time. Gillert and I both worked there, oh Mr. Fezzywigg was the best employer one could ever hope to have." said Dumbledore, looking with fondness at the old building.

Without much warning the door opened and a much younger version of Dumbledore and Grindelwald came out carrying a large amount of holly and garland. A much shorter man came out with little candles in his arms.

"Make it look beautiful, boys, we have a lot of guests that expect my prized apprentices to do a smashing job on the decorations." said the short man proudly.

"There's old Fezzywig himself." said Dumbledore. "It must be his annual Christmas party."

The night came faster than it had ever had come before, the holly, candles and garland were draped around the front of the building in such a divine way that some of the guests remained outside just to gaze upon it a little while longer.

Dumbledore walked over to the building, needlessly sidestepping people as he made his way into the middle of the open room. People were dancing around to the music a band of wizards playing an assortment of different instruments. He couldn't help but smile, people he used to know so well were all around him.

"There's the Flamels, I learned so much from Lord Nicolas, and there's Lord Malfoy! I never cared for him much, bit self...important." his face fell.

"Something wrong, Albus?" asked the spirit.

"What? Oh, no...nothing." said Dumbledore faintly.

He then saw his younger self come forward, being led by a jovial Fezzywig. "Sir, I have lots of work to do." said the younger Albus exasperatedly.

"Nonsense, this is Christmas!" said Fezzywig with a laugh. "Now come along, there's someone I want you to meet. Ah! Minerva, I want you to meet someone. This is one of my star apprentices, Albus Dumbledore. Albus, this is a friend of my family, Minerva McGonagall."

The woman was a tall brown haired, lass with knowing eyes and an intelligent yet beautiful face.

"_Minerva?_" gasped the older Dumbledore.

"Do you know this woman?" asked the spirit curiously.

"I was in love with her. We were to be married, but...things...happened." asked Dumbledore slowly.

The scene shifted once more, this time they were in a snow covered park, with frost tracing the outlines of the branches overhead.

"No, not this, anything but this." said Albus with a sorrowful look.

They watched as two people strolled under the trees, arm in arm. A slightly older Dumbledore and an older McGonagall.

"But why can we not get married this year?" asked Minerva.

"My investments haven't paid off, with the funds we have now, we won't be able to buy a decent sized house, " said Albus.

"I don't need a large house, a small cottage is all I could ever hope for, with you and I growing old together, and raising children." she pleaded with a smile.

"But we need to be financially secure, give me a few more months to get the money we need. I love you, Minerva." said Dumbledore with a smile, though his eyes did not hold the same warmth for her.

"You did once." said Minerva softly. "Something else has taken my place, something _golden_." she slid the ring off her finger and placed it in Dumbledore's hand. "I'm setting you free, to do what you really want to do."

She turned and walked away from him.

The older Dumbledore had tears falling down his crooked nose, He rounded on the spirit floating silently beside him.

"Why must you torment me, spirit?" he asked grief stricken.

"These are the shadows that have already past, they are what they are, do not blame me." said the Ghost.

"Leave me!" he said in despair. He sat down on a nearby rock and wept. When he looked up a moment later, he was back in his own room. He wiped his eyes, and brought the covers closer to himself, his thoughts plagued by robbing Minerva of the happiest life he could have given her.

_Bong Bong_!

"HO HO HO!" said a great booming voice. Dumbledore sat up in bed quickly.

"This is getting to be too much." said Dumbledore, fearing what this spirit was going to show him. He opened the curtains to his bed once again, the blinding light was not there this time, but there was both a warm glow and delicious smell coming from the room just off his bedchamber.

Still not willing to trust, Dumbledore gripped his wand once more and sneaked over to the doorway. Inside the room he saw the room laden with plates, bowls and tureens full of the most scrumptious food he had ever seen. There were dozens of turkeys, hams, candied fruits, potatoes of every kind, almost every vegetable imaginable, cookies that climbed all the ceiling, cakes, pies and even a suckling pig!

He peered a little further inside carefully and saw an enormous man, with a head of both shaggy hair on the top and for a beard, almost hiding his entire face, but one could see his black eyes shining underneath the hair. He was wearing a long red coat with white fur trimming and the largest pair of black leather boots Dumbledore had ever seen. The man could hardly fit in his drawing room!

This was not the image of Father Christmas that had been mass produced by that muggle soda company.

"Come in, and know me better man!" said the giant jovially.

Dumbledore pulled back slightly, but slowly made his way into the room, still taking in all the food around his feet. There was more than he had originally thought, it would take him days to just inventory all the food here, and years to eat it all!

"Come in and know me better man! Did I already say that?" he asked with a large smile behind his beard.

"You did." said Dumbledore plainly.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present, this is the night, before he dawn before the day of Christmas!" the ghost continued to smile good-naturedly. "Did I already tell you I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present?"

"You did, yes." said Dumbledore staring up at the man. Something about this giant...he liked.

"Come in and know me better man!" said the Spirit, falling back on his trusty stand-bye, he chuckled warmly.

"You're a little absent-minded, Spirit." said Dumbledore with a faint smile.

"No, I'm a large absent-minded Spirit!" said the Ghost of Christmas Present with a hearty laugh.

Dumbledore even laughed a little. Perhaps this wasn't so bad after all.

"Me mind is filled with the 'ere and now, and the now is Christmas!" said the Giant gesturing around the room.

"I don't believe I've ever met anyone like you before, Spirit." said Dumbledore folding his arms in a comfortable way.

"Yeh sure? Over eighteen hundred of me brothers have come before me." said the Spirit with a pleasant look.

"Eighteen hundred?" said Dumbledore with a raised brow and a smile on his face. "Think of the grocery bills." he laughed loudly. He couldn't believe it, he had never felt this..._jolly_ since...ever that he could recall.

The giant spirit laughed as well, he took a few steps closer to Dumbledore and placed his hands behind his back, his eyes still glinting behind his beard. "'Ave you noticed that everythin' seems wonderful at Christmas?"

Dumbledore's face fell slightly. "Frankly Spirit, no. In fact, I never really understood Christmas."

The spirit placed a giant hand on Dumbledore's shoulder, he could feel the warmth radiating off this spirit, not like the terrible grace that the previous ghost had. The warmth he could feel all over his body, and deep into his heart.

"Before this day is done, yeh _will _understand." said the Ghost of Christmas Present with a smile. "Come on, let's go out inter the world!" said the Ghost walking out of the room and holding the door open for Dumbledore to go ahead.

Dumbledore followed him, all thoughts of fleeing vanished.

He noticed that as he looked out of the windows, it was still very dark, but when they exited the house, it was late morning and the sun was shining down on all the people strolling about. A soft shower of snow fell onto the street's inhabitants.

"Welcome to Christmas mornin'!" said the spirit waving his arms around happily.

Dumbledore saw the entire scene with new eyes, he couldn't help but smile as people greeted each other, exchanged wreaths right on the street and children were pulling each other around on sleds or flying on broomsticks.

People were shouting Yuletide Greetings at each other as they walked down the street, and young couples were even dancing to the music of a band and carolers as they walked up the snow covered street. Dumbledore could feel the warmth of a dozen hearths glowing within him, and getting brighter with each second.

"Spirit? Could you show my family, my nephew Remus' house? I so desire to know what his Christmas is like!" Dumbledore said earnestly, he couldn't help but act as if the countless unspent joyful emotions came flooding back through him.

The spirit waved his arm and in a whirling of powdery snow, they found themselves in front of a neat little home on the modest part of town. The Spirit led him up the stairs to a cheery little door and they walked straight through the wood and wreath separating the indoors from the out.

Inside they found Remus laying on the sofa, his face sporting a scar and pinched to the surface of his skull. A short haired woman was placing a cool piece of cloth on his temple.

"Last night was horrible." said Remus with a gasp.

"Didn't your Uncle Albus send you a potion this time?" asked the woman Dumbledore perceived to be his wife Nymphadora.

"I didn't send him his potion! Why did he not tell me so yesterday?" asked Dumbledore in shock.

"Yeh were too busy, remember?" said the giant with a sad smile.

"He was busy, and not in a pleasant mood, I did not want to press." said Remus smiling at his wife as she tended to him. "He's a good man."

Guilt cut through Dumbledore like a knife.

"Rubbish!" said Nymphadora angrily. "What good has he done you?"

"He took care of me, when I got bitten, it's thanks to him that I'm no longer dangerous, even when a full moon hits. It's all due to him that I cannot hurt you." said Remus with a smile as he weakly caressed her hair.

"He never stops by, not even for our wedding." said Nymphadora hotly.

"You cannot blame him, darling." said Remus taking a hold of Nymphadora's hand. "He hates gatherings, and people in general. Though he will not admit it, especially to himself, when he looks at some people, me included, he has a fondness hiding in his eyes. There is goodness in him. I can see it."

Nymphadora stared at him, then smiled and kissed his lips tenderly. "You win." she said with a smile.

"I wonder if he'll stop by, I'd like that." said Remus softly.

"He'd better not, or I'll give him a proper thrashing for forgetting your potion last night." said Nymphadora with a strained laugh.

"Come on, there are another Christmas I want ter show yeh." said the Spirit throwing his arm around Dumbledore. "A precious one, worth it's weight in gold."

"No more, I cannot bear anymore." said Dumbledore. The guilt of failing his nephew when he so desperately needed him the most for his werewolf transformations.

The room disappeared in a whirl of fresh snow and they were deposited outside of a shabby looking house, on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow.

Dumbledore was confused. "Why did you bring us to this place? How is this a Christmas worth it's weight in gold?"

"It's the people in it that make it precious." said the giant with a smile. "This is the house of your employee, James Potter."

They were about to go inside when they heard people approaching, Dumbledore looked down the small street and saw his assistant James Potter coming down, wearing his ragged coat a hat and scarf and on his shoulder was a small boy. The boy was wearing a similar ragged coat and hat, but he held in his hands a small crutch.

They were singing a carol, Dumbledore remembered hearing his sister singing it once, "Angels We've Heard on High." He had a such a beautiful voice for a tiny child. James was alright a singer, but his son...was an angel incarnate.

He never did like children, but this child, he could not help but feel drawn to him.

The boy was indeed small, but his eyes were pleasantly large and filled with a bright and glittering green color. The boy's smile was enough to even put the newly fallen snow to shame and his laughter was like the tinkling of bells to the old man's ears. Why didn't James bring Harry to his office sooner? But something was amiss, why did the boy carry a crutch?

He turned to face the ragged house. "_This _is James' house?" asked Dumbledore.

"How did yeh know that?" asked the spirit.

"You just told me." said Dumbledore with a smile and shook his head.

"Well, I'm usually a trustworthy sort." said the giant with a laugh.

The duo of father and son came nearer and nearer, until Dumbledore could see them both up close. The boy was almost the spitting image of his father, he had the same messy hair that he, now shamefully, had threatened to lop off James' head. Though there was a difference, slight things that Dumbledore could hardly put his finger on. Also, the boy, was very _very _thin.

James reached the door and placed his son's feet gently down in the snow. The little boy braced himself both on his father's legs and the crutch he held tightly in his hand. "Let's go see if Christmas dinner is ready." James said with a bright smile.

"Oh boy!" said the tiny child happily.

They followed the father and son into the house and had their first look around. There were several mismatched wooden chairs, a rusty stove in the corner with a woman with long red hair working diligently on supper. Two other children were helping in setting the table, the boy had bright red hair like the woman and the girl had a head full of chestnut colored hair.

"Daddy!" said the children excitedly and they ran to hug their father's middle as the smaller child hung his hat and coat up on a smaller coat rack.

"Hey, Hermione, Ronnie!" said James happily. "Dinner almost ready?"

"It would be if Ronnie didn't try and eat all the biscuits." said Hermione teasingly.

"You were the one eating the chestnuts." said Ron back.

"Now, now, no fighting." said the woman coming over quickly and giving her husband a quick kiss. "How are you doing, Harry?"

"Fine momma." said Harry as his mother kissed him. He secured the wooden crutch under his arm and hopped over to the fire.

"How was he in church today sweetheart?" asked Mrs. Potter.

"Oh, as good as gold and better as always, Lily." said James taking his hat off. "You know he's always good there, I swear, he can but those old ladies to shame." he added with a smile. "He was hoping that people would see him in church and remember who it was that made lame beggars walk and blind men see, without magic."

"Remarkable child." said Dumbledore softly.

The kids than began to play on the floor before the dinner was completely finished. Ron grabbed his Chudley Cannon figurines as Hermione grabbed her little witch doll. Harry was playing with a little tiny pot, and was placing different things inside.

"What is he doing?" asked Dumbledore.

"Pretendin' ter make a potion." said the Ghost of Christmas Past wisely.

"What are you making Harry?" asked Mrs. Potter as she placed the small pan of mashed potatoes on the table.

"A potion, so I can run around and play like Hermione and Ron!" said Harry with a bright smile. Dumbledore noticed James flinching a bit as his wife looked at the boy with a sad smile.

"What is wrong with that child?" said Dumbledore.

"He suffers from a muscle degenerative disease." said the ghost stumbling over the word.

Dumbledore looked down and placed his hands over his face. "He asked me about my progress on that cure, why did I not...?"said Dumbledore sorrowfully.

The children gathered around the table and each said a silent prayer before they tucked into the small feast.

"How can even two people consider that a feast?" said Dumbledore.

"No matter how big or small, it's very much appreciated." said the spirit.

Once the prayer was done Harry reached to take a big bite out of his chicken leg when he noticed his father was cutting a small wing apart for himself. Harry looked at the rest of the chicken and saw that there was not much left, Harry held out the leg for his father to take it. James saw his son try and give him his piece of meat, placed it back onto his son's plate and wrapped his arms around his son.

"I pay James so little." said Dumbledore, tears falling down his nose.

Then James stood up, "A toast, to Mr. Dumbledore, the founder of the feast."

His wife however scoffed. "Mr. Dumbledore indeed. "I'd give him a piece of my mind and make him choke on it."

"Lily dear! The children, Christmas Day!" said James in shock.

Mrs. Potter crossed her arms angrily.

"To Mister Dumbledore!" said Harry trying to back his father up. "And God bless us! Everyone!"

Dumbledore touched his heart. He noticed as James sat down, Harry's eyes widened slightly and he clutched his leg, trying to hold back a whimper of pain. His father saw and picked the child up and held him close to his chest, rocking him back and forth.

"Spirit, tell me if Harry will live." said Dumbledore faintly, he knew the disease and what tragic ends it could take.

"That is the future, my job is the Present, though I can see a vacant seat beside the chimney corner and a crutch with no owner." said the ghost sadly. "If somethin' don't change soon, he'll die."

Dumbledore looked at the spirit and was met with a horrible sight, the beard of his ghostly friend was no longer dark brown, but as white as his own and he looked awfully tired. "But, " the spirit continued, "if he's going to die he'd better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

Dumbledore clutched his own throat. "We're it that I could tear that statement that I uttered to pieces!"

Another flurry of snow came, Dumbledore never took his eyes away from little Harry until he was completely gone from his sight. They were transported then to a churchyard. "Come, my time is coming to a close," said the spirit as he made his way to a bench.

"How can you grow old so fast, Spirit?" asked Dumbledore.

"My life is exceptionally short, I stay in this world for a only one day." said the giant spirit as he eased himself into the chair. "My time will end when this day's shadows strike twelve."

Then the bells of the church began to ring, Dumbledore looked up at the church, then back to the giant. "No! You cannot leave me! You've taught me so much! Please, stay with me Spirit!"

"Now I'm gonna leave yeh with the Ghost of Christmas Future." said the spirit wearily.

The bells continued on ringing their terrible sounds.

"I fear the future, for I feel that they will show me what will happen if I do not change, A world...without...that wonderful boy..." said Dumbledore, tears burning his cheeks. This spirit taught him so much, meant so much to him, despite being with him for such a short time.

"Go, and know him better man! HO HO HO HO!" said the spirit as the final ringing of the bell came, he faded gently away into the sparkles that only newly fallen snow could muster.

Dumbledore scowled at the large chapel, darn tolling bell. He wanted to go back to Potter's house and watch the family again, or get a healing potion for his unfortunate nephew that he neglected and with it, the potion to heal that child.

_Dong Dong Dong!_

He turned and was met with another terrible sight, a tall dark hooded figure with fearsome red eyes burning out of the hood. Dumbledore took a quick step back, out of shock.

"A-Are you the Ghost of Christmas Future that I was told about?" asked Dumbledore.

The hooded figure nodded.

"Ghost, I fear you more than the others I have met tonight, but I will take your lesson to heart and learn all I can from it. I have already made a solemn promise to change the errors of my ways..." said Dumbledore trembling slightly.

The hooded figure turned and pointed towards the mist that was heading their way.

"Of-Of course, we still must see what has yet to be...I understand." said Dumbledore nervously.

They traveled onward to the mist.

Instead of the gently falling snow that the Ghost of Christmas Present's world held, it was a freezing rain that cut straight into his bones, despite being a shadow, he could feel it. They were down the street in Godric Hollow. People were hurrying to get indoors except for a pair of men who were standing beside his office building. each holding an umbrella

"I don't know how, I just know the old man's dead." said one of the men.

"When did he go?" asked the other man.

"Sometime during the night, last night." said one of the men.

"Well, I don't care that he's gone, I'd just like to know what he's done with all that money." said the other man.

"Well, I know he didn't give it to me." said the man with a laugh.

"Think'll be a funeral?" asked the other man.

"Don't know why, no one'll go." said the man and they strode away.

"The poor wretch they speak of, I have a terrible feeling I know who it is." said Dumbledore in shock.

The mist claimed them once again and this time they were in a darkened alley, trash littering each side and a small group of people at the back. Dumbledore recognized one of the men as Mundungus Fletcher, a lecherous old man with a penchant for buying stolen property.

"So what have you got from the house? What have you got for old Fletcher, eh?" said Mundungus rubbing his hands together.

"I got some cufflinks of his, actual diamond they are." said one of the shadier characters handing him several small boxes.

"My mother gave me those!" said Dumbledore shortly.

"He always did like spending his money on himself." scoffed Mundungus Fletcher.

"I've got these silk cloaks, very fine." said the woman that had seen better days many years ago.

"And I've got his blankets." said another woman.

Mundungus placed the cloaks behind him and took hold of the blankets, "Eh? These are still _warm_! I don't pay extra for warmth."

"You should, it's the only _warmth_ he's ever had." said the woman with a laugh.

"Great Heavens." said Dumbledore turning his back on the group. "Please Spirit, show me some good will, some cheer at least, or this conversation will haunt me for the rest of time."

The mist reappeared and took them to the Potter house.

"Ah! James' house, there is sure to be some holiday cheer here! A veritable heaven of good will is here!" said Dumbledore as he made his way into the Potter house. But good will was no where to be seen. Two of the three children were sitting at the table in little black outfits as their mother, who was also in black was pouring them a bowl of soup each, tears streaked down her face.

Dumbledore looked at the chimney corner and saw the crutch the smallest Potter boy used.

"_No, _no, NO!" he screamed. He ran out of the house and ran to the nearest churchyard, with the specter floating silently behind him. He stopped when he saw James' in his ragged coat kneeled in front of one of the tombstones.

"Please, I'm begging, not _Harry_." moaned Dumbledore. He walked slowly around his assistant and saw what his heart could never take.

_Harry Potter_

_Born: July 31st 1980 Died December 24 1986_

_Our little angel, taken too soon._

Tears cascaded down his face as he read the stone and heard his assistant's heartbreaking sobs. Dumbledore laid a hand on the tombstone and spent a good while weeping for the child himself. He could have saved the boy, or given him a better life at the very least, what a disgusting _wretched _creature he had become.

"Oh, Specter, how could Christmas hold such a scene? How can this world even endure it?" said Dumbledore between sobs.

The Spirit stood behind the stone and pointed over to another stone a few rows down.

"My own? Oh Specter, I do not care. All I care is that I go back, to my own time to make this right! To do what I should have done so many decades ago!" Dumbledore crawled towards the spirit on his knees. "Please speak to me spirit! Tell me that I can change these shadows! Tell me that this is not set in stone as this writing seems to be! I swear! I will honor Christmas and all that it is. I will take the welfare of my fellow man into deeper account, I will show you, the other spirits and Gellert that I truly can learn my lesson!" he buried his face in the folds of the red eyed specter's cloak.

He pulled his head back and saw that he was clinging to his own bed curtain. He looked around in shock and noticed that light was pouring, not from the bedroom itself, or the outer room, but from _outside_. It was morning, Christmas morning!

Dumbledore shot out of bed and opened his window quickly. It was indeed Christmas morning, and a beautiful day at that! He could almost feel the present of the Ghost of Christmas Present right at his side!

He turned around and called out loudly. "Dobby!"

A small, nervous little house-elf came out from behind the closet door. "You called Dobby, Master Albus?" asked the nervous little house-elf.

"Yes I did. Go down into the kitchens and get the biggest turkey we have." said Dumbledore changing his clothes rapidly. "Meet me downstairs with it."

"Yes sir." said Dobby eagerly.

Dumbledore changed into his best suit and threw a scarf around his neck, he placed a silk top hat upon his head and hurried downstairs. As he came to stop at the door, he hopped on one foot to put his shoes on. Dobby came out with a small turkey in his arms.

"Oh surely we have something better than that?" said Dumbledore with a groan.

"Dobby will get you another turkey sir." said Dobby eagerly. "Dobby will get the biggest one he can find!"

"Good, when you do, wait for me at the Potter home here in town, outside." said Dumbledore excitedly. "Meet me there in two hours."

"Yes sir!" said Dobby, with a loud crack, he was gone.

Dumbledore hurried out of his house, frightening everyone in town with cries of 'Merry Christmas' to all that would hear. Some of the elderly ladies even fainted on the spot as he walked past and bowed to them in the street.

Dumbledore stopped at several shops in the marketplace, picking up an assortment of food, clothes for the Potter children, a new cloak for Remus and a coat for James. He then stopped at the toy shop and gathered up all the toys he could see and grab. The bag he had placed all the things he had purchased were getting heavier and heavier.

But he did not care, he was more than happy to lug an entire shopping mall on his back to make the Christmas season brighter for James and his family. He stopped at his office and rummaged through his safe in the basement. He pulled out several phials of Wolfsbane potion, a phial of Pain Relieving potion and a solid gold phial. He tucked them deep into his pockets and left his office with a much lighter heart.

He left his office again and saw the same two men that had come to him asking for donations.

"Gentlemen, I'm glad I could find you! I'd like to make a last minute donation." said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Stop by tonight and I'll give you an ample sum."

The two men looked at Dumbledore in shock. "T-Thank you sir!"

"Merry Christmas, gentlemen." said Dumbledore tipping his hat to them.

He continued onto his nephew Remus' house. He remembered what Remus' wife said, and took out the phials, ready to extend them as a peace offering. He knocked on the door and waited for the door to be opened. His niece in-law opened the door and stared at the old man in front of her.

"You must be Nymphadora, I apologize for not giving this to Remus yesterday. There is no possible excuse for me to forget. I also have a pain relieving potion, it should ease the discomfort he's feeling. " said Dumbledore holding out the phials for her to see. "Might I come in? I'd like to see my nephew?" he added with a joyful smile.

Nymphadora stared at the man in shock and allowed him in.

Dumbledore walked inside and went straight to the shocked man lying on the couch.

"Merry Christmas, dear nephew. I'm sorry I forgot to give you these yesterday, but here is the strongest pain relieving potion I have. " said Dumbledore with a honest regret.

Remus took the potion with a nervous hand, but he retracted his hand. "Prove to me that you're you, Uncle." said Remus.

Dumbledore gave a hearty laugh and raised his wand. He summoned the truest happy memory he could possibly ask for. The memory of seeing James and his family enjoying their Christmas dinner.

"Expecto Patronum!" he said clearly. A phoenix blossomed out of his wand and flew about the room.

"Does that prove it to you, dear nephew?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes! Yes it does." said Remus with a bright smile.

"I'm sorry to leave you so soon after I've arrived, but I have somewhere else to be right now." said Dumbledore with a smile. "I'll come back sometime later."

"Where are you going?" asked Remus.

"That would be telling." said Dumbledore with a wink, he bowed to Nymphadora and left.

"What happened to _him_?" asked Nymphadora in a hushed voice.

"A miracle, a honest to goodness miracle." said Remus with the happiest smile he'd had since his wedding.

Dumbledore continued down the different streets, this time as he neared James' house, he curtailed his season greetings. He did not wanting people to go warning him and ruin his little surprise. He did, conjure snowmen for the local children to play with as he went on his way.

He finally made his way to the small house on the very edge of town and spotted Dobby standing with the biggest turkey he had ever seen in his life. That turkey should take the thinness away from little Harry's face.

"Wonderful Dobby!" said Dumbledore with a smile. He drew a circle in the snow and placed his large sack on the snow, making sure the snow's wetness would not seep into the bag. and so they could not see the things he bought. Dumbledore turned to the door that he had stood in front of last night.

He straightened up his suit and put his best frown on his face and knocked on the door. James opened the door, and when he saw the man on the other side of the door, his face was ashen.

"M-Mr. Dumbledore!" said James in shock.

"So this is where you are hiding." said Dumbledore with a snarl. He thought he deserved an award for acting this good. "You were not at work this morning."

"Mr. Dumbledore s-sir! You told me I could have the day off, sir!" said James nervously.

"I? I told you that? Why would I, Albus Dumbledore, tell you that?" asked Dumbledore.

"But...but you did sir!" said James worriedly. "You told me I could stay home today!"

"James Potter, I've had just about enough of this." said Dumbledore sternly. Then the door opened a little further and he was face to face with a pair of angry green eyes. The same green eyes that looked nervously, from behind his father's knees. It took everything for Dumbledore not to smile down at the boy.

"Oh, uh...Mr. Dumbledore, this is my wife Lily, my youngest son Harry and my two older children Ron and Hermione. " he said pointing down at the two kids standing behind their mother. "Would you...care to...Harry where are you going?" asked James grabbing a coat, hurrying after his son.

Dumbledore turned and saw Harry working on making his way to where Dobby was hidden. Dumbledore marveled at his sensing ability. James picked up his little boy and wrapped the larger coat around his son like a blanket. He pulled Harry away from the cold outdoors. He was still holding Harry in his arms when he repeated his offer. "Would you like to come inside, sir?"

"I've just had my fill of this James Potter." said Dumbledore repeating his improvised script.

"How _dare _you." hissed Mrs. Potter quietly, her handing straying towards her wand.

"And therefore I'm going to raise your salary." said Dumbledore looking at the family with a straight face.

Mrs. Potter stared at the old man with a shocked look on her face, while James nearly dropped his son. Dumbledore caught the boy tenderly and held the small child close to his own chest. Little Harry was unsure what to make of this new development.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at his young assistant. "That's right James, a raise in your salary, and make you a researcher partner along with me."

The family stared at the man in shock.

"Merry Christmas James." said Dumbledore with a smile, with his free hand, he snapped his fingers and Dobby, the turkey, and the large sack of toys and food appeared. Dobby pulled the bag behind him, levitated the turkey and brought them into the house.

Dumbledore placed Harry gently on the floor and watched with amusement as he hobbled over to the bag. He and his brother and sister, opened the bag carefully. They squealed with glee when they saw the toys packed into the bag.

"This has to be a dream." said James with a bright smile.

"No dream, James." said Dumbledore with a smile. "I've just done a bit of overdue learning."

Due to the shock, Mrs. Potter could hardly even begin to make the Christmas dinner, so Dobby happily set to it. They all sat down and enjoyed the feast that Dobby made, Dumbledore sat with Harry on his lap and reached deep into his pockets.

"I've got a special present for you Harry." said Dumbledore with a smile.

"What's that Mister Dumblydore?" asked Harry with curious look.

Dumbledore took out the small golden phial and handed it to the boy. "This is a potion I've been working on, it should help with your leg." said Dumbledore kindly.

Harry took the phial in his small hands and wrapped his arms around the old man's neck.

"Thank you sir." said Harry burying his face in the man's shoulder, tears of joy cascading down the boy's cheeks.

Since that day, Dumbledore had become the kindest, and most generous man England had ever had in it's history. He removed all the debts that he had charged St. Mungos, and carved the amount the Ministry owed him by half and lowered his discovery fees and selling rates by two thirds. He was generous, but not financially suicidal.

Thanks to Dumbledore's potion, Harry's leg healed up in no time. Dumbledore became almost like a second father to the young boy, he became completely enthralled with the boy and doted on him and his siblings shamelessly. James became a full partner with Dumbledore, and almost immediately, Albus moved James' family out of their broken down house and moved in with him.

For many Christmas Days to come, Dumbledore kept his word to the three spirits and celebrated Christmas to the fullest extent and beyond. The children had all grown up, Hermione had become a teacher at Dumbledore's and parent's old school, while Ron became a Healer at St. Mungos. Harry had become a researcher falling in Dumbledore's and James' footsteps.

Every year they would gather together, Dumbledore, the Potters, the Lupins and celebrate Christmas together, and every year Harry would raise his glass and say the same prayer.

_"God bless us, everyone_." said Harry with a smile.

* * *

**Please review and tell me what you thought!**

**I hope everyone liked this, I really enjoyed writing it, and it's a version I hadn't seen before. I've seen a bunch where Harry plays the Scrooge part, or it's Snape, but I've never seen Dumbledore play the part. **


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